Ten Things I Hate About Alex Gaskarth

My alarm goes off loudly in my ear, signaling it was time for me to wake up.

I groan out into my room, trying to use my dead-weight arm to hit the Snooze button. I just ended up knocking it to the ground, breaking it, but at least it shut up.

I tried to shove my head back in my pillow, hoping to get maybe even two more hours of sleep, but my mind felt too stuffed, to full of useless thoughts. Well, two thoughts, if you picked it to the bare necessities. Two thoughts that felt heavy and consumed every cranny of my brain.

One: The dream I just had included Alex.

In my dream, we had been at the coffee shop, but instead of drinking coffee, we were drinking out of red Solo cups that had nasty punch in it. I was dressed in my prom dress and him in the suit he had been wearing at the dance.

We had been talking, but the dream seemed too far away now for me to remember what we had been discussing. It was too fuzzy and blurry for me to make out.

Two: Alex is wishing on a blue moon that I’ll show up at the park this afternoon.

Why does he want to speak with me anyway? I was fine with him absent from my life for the past five years, and just because we spoke for five minutes he suddenly wants to be glued to my side? What is his deal?

Is he trying to make up for that horrible, horrible Prom night? If he is, he’s a tad late. Which causes me to think that there is something else I’m not seeing.

I shake my head.

God, I’m gonna go insane if I overanalyze this too much.

I throw the covers off my body, feeling like I had just been shoved in a tiny space. I click my fan up to the highest setting, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes to take a shower.

After my hour-long shower, I go back out into my kitchen. I could once again see the red light flashing that meant I had new messages, and I roll my eyes. Do I just not pay attention to when my phone rings? I walk over and press the button, hearing the beep and then the first message comes on.

“Anastasia! Why do we keep leaving each other messages? Damn it.” I laugh at Leila as I pour myself some coffee. “Anyway, Sam came in last night, that’s when you called me. I had been at the airport. Anyway, how does tomorrow sound? We want to go bowling. And then we can get started on your birthday plans! I have many ideas in mind so make sure to set aside some time to listen to them. Love you!”

A beep. The second message was from Jack.

“Anastasia, it’s Jack,” he says as I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. “I was calling to tell you to be careful. Alex isn’t a rapist or anything, don’t get me wrong, but he does have a good reason as to what he did all those years ago. I don’t know why I’m telling you this now, but just…I don’t want you to get hurt again, okay? Bye.”

I was still trying to wrap my head around the last message as I turn off my answering machine. What does Jack mean by that? Does he want me to go see Alex? Does he not want me to see him? My mind felt frazzled.

Why would I go see that jerk anyway?

What he did to me was awful and caused me to burn with hate for five years. Why would I voluntarily go face him? I would never do that.

For all I know, he could be planning to embarrass me again. I mean, why else would he ask me to meet him at a park; a public place? He must have something up his sleeve. There can’t be any other reason as to why he’s insisting I talk to him.

So that ends it. I am not going.



The park is a beautiful place at four o’clock in the afternoon. The sky is blue and cloudless, small rays of sunshine hitting my face. Families and little boys and girls were scattered around the grass, enjoying the nice weather and eating potato salad out of picnic baskets. Large trees framed the whole park, giving off shade in case anyone felt too hot, and benches were supplied for people who liked to just sit and bask in the gorgeous view.

But in the center of all that was a giant cement fountain. It had curlicue designs and these fake stone fish that spit water out at the top, the liquid glistening under the sun. It was large and I remember diving for lucky change in that exact fountain when I was younger.

And seated on the bench in front of the fountain was Alex Gaskarth.

I couldn’t believe I was actually standing here in the parking lot, gazing at the boy I hated the most from afar. Why am I here? I sigh and pull a hand through my hair.

I remember debating with myself as I sat in my apartment after waking up at twelve. I had weighed the pros and cons, finally deciding maybe some fresh air would help me clear my over-stuffed head.

And then I found myself driving to the park.

I bite my bottom lip. Hey, I don’t have to be here for Alex, right? It’s a public park. And I just said it myself. I need fresh air and where is a better place then the park to find it?

My eyes slip closed as I take a deep breath, calming myself down.

Alex was sitting on that bench all right, his eyes pointed at his phone.

He was in a pair of tight black skinny jeans, a weird style he always seemed to be able to pull off. The purple v-neck he wore showed off all the muscle definition in his arms and his thin torso, showing off just a touch of his chest and collarbone. A black beanie was shoved onto his head, covering the red-brown mess he calls hair, and a pair of black sunglasses perched on his nose. The purple and black Nike dunks pulled it all together, my head shaking.

I felt my feet shuffle forward unwillingly, as if pulling me toward him. I tried to get myself to stop, but my nerve endings wouldn’t hook together, so my brain didn’t register the command. And before I knew it, I was standing in front of the bench.

“Well, well,” he smirks, making my insides churn, “I didn’t think you’d show.”

“I didn’t think I’d show either,” I mutter to myself, cursing.

He scoots over a little on the bench, leaving an open space. He pats the wood, smiling up at me. “Sit down. You look like you’ve walked miles.”

“I drove here.”

“Sit down anyway.”

I roll my eyes but cautiously take a seat, resting on the edge of the bench so I could make a run for it when I felt the need to. I tried to smooth my sweaty hands over the top of my black vest, but nothing would stop the nerves that were rushing through my veins like adrenaline.

We were quiet for a few moments, his eyes studying me like I was a math formula he was trying to decipher. I got really uncomfortable really fast under his stare so I force my mouth to open and spew words.

“Jack called me yesterday.”

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up on his head, but he didn’t look particularly surprised. He leans back on his bench, his hands tucking behind his head. “Really?”

I nod, licking at my dry lips. “He told me you felt guilty about the Prom thing.”

“At least he was telling you true facts.”

Now it was my turn to seem shocked. But unlike Alex, I was legitimately surprised. “Wait…he was right? You do feel guilty about what you did to me?” And even after Alex said it was true, I could still hear the doubt underlining my tone of voice.

“Of course I feel guilty,” he says, seeming offended that I would think the opposite. “God, I basically ruined the end of your senior year. Why would I want that?”

“Then why did you do it in the first place?” I bite back.

He hesitates, looking like he wanted to say something but was holding it back. “I guess I was mistaken. I thought I heard them call your name when they had really called Leila’s.” We fall silent, the sounds of birds chirping around us almost suffocating. Then, I hear a barely audible “Sorry” fall past Alex’s lips.

My top teeth were digging into my bottom lip almost too painfully. Could it be true? Did he really make a mistake or is he just lying to me to make me feel better? I could feel the conflict inside of me building up.

“Do you…do you wanna go eat something? I’m kinda hungry.”

I look over at Alex, feeling the word ‘yes’ slip onto the edge of my tongue. Was I really thinking of going out with the guy who killed my high school career?

“I can’t,” I say truthfully, almost feeling saddened by the fact that I had to say no. “I have to go have dinner with my parents. They’re actually expecting me soon.” This was true too; my mom always felt it was best to show up to a dinner at three o’clock.

A small smirk settles on his lips. “May I accompany you?”

I almost wanted to laugh out loud. “You want to have dinner with me and my parents? You…why would…why?”

He shrugs. “I have nothing better to do. And I can tell you’re just itching to see more of me.” Alex wiggles his brows and I have the urge to smack the smile off his face.

“Nice try,” I answer, a little too late. “But you may not come.”

“Why not?” Alex pouts, his bottom pink, full lip puffing out. I wanted to bite it.

I didn’t really have a logical reason as to why he couldn’t come; I just didn’t want my mom to assume he was my boyfriend. She’s been urging me to get married, even though I am only 22, and says it’s time I settled down. “No,” I repeat, thinking that would end the matter.

But Alex suddenly jumps off the bench and throws himself onto his knees, clasping his hands together as if he was praying. “Ple-e-e-e-e-ease?” he drags out, whining.

I could feel myself blushing, my eyes wandering out of my peripherals to see the crowds of people around us staring, laughing at the scene before them. I then felt anger, because this would be the second time Alex has humiliated me in front of large amounts of human beings.

“No,” I hiss. “Now get up.”

“Anastasia Tate,” he says my full name, “slash Ana Banana; I would really like it if I could cordially escort you to dinner at your parental unit’s house.” He puts on a cheeky grin afterwards, his brown eyes smoldering for emphasis.

People were now starting to gather, some murmuring about a proposal, so finally; I curl my fingers into Alex’s shirt, yanking him to his feet.

“Fine,” I growl, still feeling the flush on my cheeks. “But only if you promise to never get on your knees in front of me ever again.”

“That’s gonna be hard to promise,” he smirks again, wrapping his arm around my waist, “when I’m gonna be eating you out later tonight.” I shove him away from me, my face the color of a cherry. He just chuckles, following me as I stomp off to the parking lot, the radiation of my fury rising like steam.